


Let me be your ruler (I'll rule I'll rule I'll rule)

by FLWhite



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (If it can be called play), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Butt Plugs, Come Eating, Dark Rey, Dominant Rey, Downright noncon, Dubious Consent, Ear Kink, Everyone is not nice, Femdom, Fluff, Forced Exhibitionism, Forced first times, Hand & Finger Kink, Heavy BDSM, Humiliation, Id Fic, Impact Play, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inappropriate Use of Lightsabers, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Just a little bit so you don't think I'm a real monster, Love is weakness leaving the body, Multi, My Id is scary, Nicknames are not always sweet, Okay maybe a tiny vestige of plot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Remembered frottage, Revenge is a dish best served bloody rare, Submissive Armitage Hux, Submissive Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader Rey, Threesome - F/M/M, Torture, Violence, Voyeurism, a kink a minute, did I mention violence, rey is not nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-03-25 11:45:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13833597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FLWhite/pseuds/FLWhite
Summary: The Dark Side is not a nice place. It gets not-nicer when Rey, the true heir to Anakin Skywalker's powers, becomes Supreme Leader of the First Order.***Kylo extends a hand to her as Snoke's throne room burns. Replacing the absolute quiet of her dream cave is the crackling red and white of flame, and the Force, all about them. She lightly places her slender bare fingers against his big gloved ones.Then she smirks and crushes his hand, allowing the throb of power that breathes and beats in her to squeeze so tightly that she can feel his knuckles grind bruisingly against one another. He is caught; he gasps. She presses harder. Three seconds more, and she will snap his two smaller fingers.Stubborn boy, she thinks at him. Why were you so sure YOU would be the master?





	1. live that fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> Caveat lector: Absolutely positively do not take this as any example for real-life kink play. Start slow, obtain consent, be kind, and practice safe sex, luvvies. 
> 
> A bit of inspiration from marshallmigraine's fanart of evil Rey complaining with Hux about Ren behind his back. Then sh*t hit the fan. I blame @ryuujitsu.
> 
> If you like my shit, feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](http://xiangyu.tumblr.com).

She has always remembered her dreams. For years, each night was the same: the glare of Jakku sun through the blur of her own tears. Big hands attached to vague muddled bodies and hard voices pulling her to her feet, dragging her along the burning ground, passing her, deserting her.

 

But since that day she stared into the cold prismatic face of her own reflection on Ahch-To, there has been a new dream. Again, one that she has every night. She stands lightly on wet uneven rock. She stares into the mirror. She watches her own hands caressing her own very clear, very nude body, stroking past clavicles, breasts, ribcage, hipbones, then rising to her cheeks, and passing over the corners of her slow dark smile. Her hair is loosened and falls to her shoulder blades. Her muscles gleam faintly in a beam of weak silvery light from above. She feels the Force roll through her, mind and flesh, a heavy pulse of strength.

 

When she returns to consciousness from these dreams, she is always aroused, her clitoris tight and hard, her thighs wet. It felt shameful to wake up like this in the island hut, sensing Skywalker asleep twenty steps away in his own bed.

 

But Skywalker is dead, now. It is a new age. _Her_ age.

 

So she wakes, and smiles. Her body is pleasantly nude. It is purring with power. She keeps her eyes closed, allowing her mind to float lightly on the slow and infinite waves of the Force. She steps from a place that never existed apart from within her mind into the realm of fleshly memory. She sees herself reaching out her hand, touching her reflection, and in a blink she is no longer looking at her own face and body in the total quiet of the cave, but at Kylo Ren, his hair a wild halo and his body, wrapped tight in black, trembling.

 

Kylo extends a hand to her as Snoke's throne room burns. Replacing the absolute quiet of her dream cave is the crackling red and white of flame, and Force, all about them. She lightly places her slender bare fingers against his big, gloved ones.

 

For a breath, he is Ben. He is stripped to the core. He is a child stunned into breathlessness when his parents really _do_ get him that remote-control toy landcruiser for his birthday.

 

Then she smirks and crushes his hand, allowing the throb of power that breathes and beats in her to squeeze so tightly that she can feel his knuckles grind bruisingly against one another. He is caught; he gasps. She presses harder. Three seconds more, and she will snap his two smaller fingers. She can feel the startled stab of agony in his mind. He has dropped his saber; it powers off and rolls smoothly until it collides with the dusty, bloodied, crumbling dais where Snoke had sat. "You really believed Snoke, didn't you."

 

"Ahh," he hisses, dropping to one knee. "Rey—"

 

She lets go at the last moment and watches indulgently as he grits his teeth, trying not to scream, cradling the crushed hand in the other. "You really believed a bald pile of moldering banthashit like that? You thought he was really the one linking us? Silly Benny."

 

He watches her, mouth slightly ajar, brows pulled tight in pain, irises eclipsed by their pupils.

 

"I thought maybe you wanted to be lose that hand to be more like Granddaddy. Guess not. Well, maybe later? Oh, ah, no-no-no," she giggles as she sees his good hand twitch and his saber begin to speed across the ruined room. She bats lazily at it with her mind so that it collides with Kylo's shoulder from the back, hard, knocking him forward; unthinkingly he puts down the hurt hand and this time does scream, like an animal.

 

 _Stubborn boy,_ she thinks at him. _Why were you so sure_ you _would be the master?_

 

***

Rey allows her lids to part and slowly pushes herself up on an elbow. The unobstructed viewport of her chamber shows, as ever, a dazzle of stars. They dimly limn the two bodies beside her, nestled tightly together under the coverlet, the two heads turned away from her on the long single pillow, one red, one dark, both breathing steadily. Peacefully.

 

But, she thinks, grinning to herself, that peace will be short-lived.

 

She flexes her hand and considers. She is not a careless master; her time alone, in the desert, has taught her to be careful with her things, because otherwise they'd break before she is ready to destroy them.

 

Hux must still be raw and bruised from earlier, when she had Kylo fucking him while she strapped his balls and cock tight in a gundark-leather sheath and pressed the ball of her foot into them.

 

Three nights after the killing of Skywalker, she'd ordered the two of them to her audience room and had them do the same there, except first Hux had asked her, with a stiffness that he was desperately trying to use to mask his panic, to, if she could, kill him instead.

 

"Oh no," she tittered, "you know I don't like _killing_. It's so boring." She knew he was thinking of the troopers who'd turned their blasters on her, when she'd exited the waste of Snoke's throne room, astride Kylo on his hands and knees and tugging a stooping Hux along by his hair. "And wasn't it such a kriffing _yawn_ to have to flush those fools out?"

 

She'd laughed in satisfaction as Hux's mind filled with his memory of men and women being obliterated by vacuum on the other side of the airlock window to which Rey had pressed his face, their mouths frozen in screams of _General_. Hux had swallowed and did not again ask to die.

 

Kylo had stood there silently during her exchange with Hux, pulling as hard as he could into himself, trying to make himself small. Of course it did no good. She'd felt it all the way back on Starkiller Base, this thing seething between them, a bundle of wanting that she could almost _see_ with her eyes even without the Force, so thick were the prickly filaments.

 

"Don't lie to me, boys," she'd laughed. "How many times have you put your tongue down his throat, Benny?" Kylo exhaled loudly; calling him Ben was almost as effective in getting a reaction as slapping him in the face.

 

"And how many times have you let Ben-ben do that on this Star Destroyer alone, Armie?" She liked the half-shattered throne that had once been Snoke's, and had had it cleaned of the encrustations of battle. It was far too large for her, but it was the more comfortable for it; she could nearly lie down in the seat, her knees hooked over one side and her head supported against the other. She was reclining like this now, looking at her toys.

 

Hux shuddered. He was thinking, _thirty-four_. Hux's mind was utterly Force-blind, but he kept it neat. That alone would have pleased her, even if he did not also have a sort of brittle fragility in his body, under the generously padded uniform coat. Order was at least as entertaining to break as chaos was to tame. And before her, in these two silent men, she had both. Far more _entertaining_ than Finn or Dameron.

 

She saw idly that he'd probably make a nice little face, maybe even beg, if she pulled the most vivid memory from his helplessly open mind and reminded him of that time he'd let Kylo rub his cock between his legs while they panted and clutched each other, fully clothed, in a utility closet on Starkiller Base. But she decided not to pursue it. Things weren't fun if they were too easy. "Well, I think you would _like_ Benny to fuck you, Armie dear." She smiled sweetly at Kylo. "And Benny certainly wants to, doesn't he?"

 

"Supreme Leader—" Hux's lip twisted with the effort to maintain his composure. "Is it not more--more essential that we pursue the remnants of the Resistance before they make it into wild space?"

 

"You can't have believed all that garbage Benny fed you about the need to keep the Force pure, Armie? You're sensible. You knew he was just being a scared little boy, still clutching tall tales from his poor old Uncle Lukey." She caressed their minds as though stroking holo-hounds. Hux's brain was quivering, consumed by the long-imagined sensation of Kylo inside him; it would not be long work, for him.

 

Kylo, however, was still resisting, fisting his mind to her at Skywalker's name, so she turned to face him. "Ben-ben darling. You should tell him, so he knows to be a good boy. Tell him what you begged me to do to you. Better yet, show him."


	2. aren't caught up in your love affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slowly but surely I will earn those tags...

"Master," Kylo said through his teeth. "I'll—do it to him if you want me to, but you said you wouldn't—wouldn't make me—"

 

She sucked her own teeth and showed these to the men. "You aren't being a very good boy, either, are you, Ben-ben?" She lifted her left hand and gently twisted three fingers. This pushed the smooth-ridged ebonite plug that she'd put in two hours earlier deeper inside him. It scraped past his prostate; a Force-blind hand would never be able to recover it, now. Kylo groaned.

 

"Master!"

 

"Show him. Do it now." She kept twisting. Kylo's hands twitched away his belt, tore down his high trousers—a task rendered somewhat challenging by the sturdy erection that she smiled to see he'd tried to keep down with a jerry-rigged band of syntex. "Naughty little Benny. Bend over now so Armie can have a good look." Kylo slowly obeyed, putting his hands on the floor and hiding his scarlet face in the hair that fell around it. She allowed the plug to ease out again, a little at a time; when the first of its ridges reached Kylo's prostate, he scrabbled at the floor like a panicked kybuck, but managed to keep his mouth shut.

 

"Oh, always so _stubborn_ , little Ben-ben. Armie would like to hear your filthy noises, wouldn't he? Be a dear and give him some."

 

Hux's Adam's apple bobbed down and up, down and up, peeping and disappearing over the high collar of his uniform jacket. He seemed to not have blinked for five minutes. The collar was darkened with sweat.

 

" _Give him some_ ," she said, still sweet, but behind the words she sent a blow toward Kylo. It landed on his solar plexus. He staggered and a heaving moan burst from him; at the same moment, with a flick of the wrist, she dragged the plug all the way out with what had to be painful speed, and Kylo fell to his still-booted knees, with another moan, nearly a sob, wrenched from him.

 

Hux had stepped involuntarily forward at Kylo's first cry, and had begun to put a hand on Kylo's exposed ass, but, at the last moment, and—Rey giggled internally—with monumental effort, deflected it to settle on a hipbone. "Well done, my little dears. Now, Armie, my ash-bunny. Tell Benny what you want him to do to you." She plucked the gundark-leather sheath from where she'd folded it away in a hidden wall-drawer, and shook it slightly to make the durasteel O-rings jingle. "I'll eventually want these rings and the whole thing licked as clean and pretty as they are now, Armie, if you behave yourself and only come onto them when you're told you can. So you'd better have a good close look."

 

The sheath clinked as she tossed it—without Force, just a gentle underhand lob—and Hux caught it, wincing. "And now, Ben-ben, Armie's all yours. Get up." Kylo haltingly stood.

 

The men looked at each other, swallowing. Kylo's cock, at last slipped free of the hasty belt of syntex, hovered between them, gently twitching in time to its owner's pulse. Hux's hand rested unsteadily on Kylo's hip. She dropped her cheek onto a languid fist. It was delightful to feel Kylo's will to resist her being incinerated, and the thoughts pouring off him like smoke.

 

_Why does he still have all his damn clothes on stars I want to leave teeth marks on his neck_

_Why is his hair still so_ kriffing flat _would he scream if I used it to pull him closer_

_Why is she doing this to me_

_Why is she doing this to me_

_Why are you doing this to me_

To that she blew Kylo a kiss, which she made sure he felt as a sisterly peck on one of his moles. "Because I'm a better master to you than Snoke ever was, sweet Benny. See how I give you just what you want, if you can be a good boy."

 

With a slight narrowing of her eyes, she tore off the top three buttons of Hux's uniform jacket and let them click and clatter on the well-waxed floor; their absence revealed a flush deepening in the hollow of Hux's throat. "You should take him now, darling."

 

Gingerly, Kylo reached out; gingerly, he hooked an index finger into the breached jacket. As soon as his fingertip touched Hux's naked skin, Rey could hear and feel the craving finally overwhelm him, a singularity of lust that bubbled through the Force and made the fittings of the room quake in place. He tore away the jacket, and through the synthcloth shirt underneath, then wrapped both hands around Hux's head, rippling his slicked hair and dragging their bodies together.

 

She allowed Kylo to grind with almost bestial roughness against the front of Hux's trousers for some seconds. "Put him in the leather," she said, when Hux began to sway and sag against Kylo. Hux's hand never left Kylo's bare side as his trousers and underthings were made short work of and tossed, in multiple pieces, to land among the tangle of shed clothing at Kylo's feet.

 

"Supreme Leader," Hux murmured as Kylo's mouth closed over his and the buckles of the sheath, despite the fumbling of Kylo's eager hands, clicked behind his back. She heard the words for what they were meant to be: _thank you_.

 

***

No, she decides, still resting her weight on her elbow, gazing at the sleepers in the starlight. It won't be amusing to have them do that again. They've gotten used to it over the last fortnight. Hux's eyes had been _dreamy_ as he'd craned his neck to look back at Kylo, before they'd gone to sleep last night, as his cock had turned nearly purple against the grain of the leather. And there had been _tenderness_ in the line of Kylo's mouth as he looked down at Hux, finally freed of the sheath, the ebonite worked deep within him, buck and thrash as he came. She'd watched how Kylo's arm had gone around Hux's shoulder and how he'd wrapped his still-gloved fingers around Hux's quiescent hand when the two began sinking into an exhausted sleep in her bed.

 

It all reminded her again, unpleasantly, of Finn, and Finn's soppy eyes. His trembling lips. The pitiful knowledge of his cowardly heart, and the even more pitiful sight of his feeble attempts to hide it. Worse yet, stupid Dameron. Hips always jutted forward like he was afraid someone would forget that he had a cock. Of course, most loathsome of all was _her_.

 

Organa was still alive, she knew. Far from here. Unwell—heavy with sentiment after feeling Rey plunge Skywalker's own lightsaber into him on that forsaken island.

 

Organa had strength in the Force, more than her brother, or her son. Perhaps as much as Rey herself. But with supreme hubris, Organa had tossed it aside, pretended not to care. A pathetic woman, and a foolish one. She must know by now just how much she'd been wrong, to give up her inheritance. Perhaps Rey should instruct her more bluntly. Actions have consequences.

 

And for her playthings, too, it is time for a change. Yes. She'll give them all a little show.

 

She places a hand on each sleeper's shoulder. "Boys. Wake up." Kylo's arm tightens around Hux before he groggily opens an eye, blinking at her through a sweep of sweat-matted hair. Hux mumbles something that sounds like "Ouch"; that'll be the bruises from Kylo's fingertips clenching the muscle of his flanks last night paining Hux as he tries to sit up.

 

Kylo shudders when he manages to focus on her face; he can't stop himself from immediately leaning over Hux, a sad small shielding reflex. His energy, so undirected, hazy, and fragile despite itself, has coalesced around Hux—precisely the kind of weakness-in-attachment that all the Jedi feared, precisely why he'd held himself back from Hux before. The kind of weakness that, no matter how forcefully he tries to snarl and snap at her, means that he will ever only be able to be a cur under her heel.

 

He still thinks he has a chance, though—he's still waiting for an opening, a chink, a mistake. Hubris again; like mother, like son. Yes, it is time for another lesson. Rey slides to her feet and runs her palms over the Lashaa silk of her night-robe. "To the main hangar, my lovelies. A general muster."

 

Kylo swallows and begins to reach over Hux for his robes, a black pile half-fallen over the edge of the enormous bed; meanwhile, Hux, coughing as quietly as he can and wincing from the bruises mottling his ribs, begins pulling on a sock.

 

"Who told you to put on your clothes?" They freeze and turn their eyes on her, the whites showing all around the irises: cornered prey. She flicks open two wall-drawers. "Come here and dress me, and we'll go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!


	3. don't run in our blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late posting, y'all.

She taps one naked ankle against Hux's cheek as he, struggles to close the final buckle of her boot, on the other foot, with his teeth. "You're being very slow, Armie."

 

"I'm shorry, Shupreme Leader," he slurs around the strap, whimpering when her taps turn to small sharp kicks.

 

"Ben-ben," she reaches behind her to seize his hair, and he momentarily pauses the work of lacing her bodice, hissing. "Are you looking forward to punishing Armie in front of the entire First Order?"

 

Kylo resumes his work with the laces, clumsily. She tightens her grip on his hair and shakes, hard. "I asked you a question, Apprentice."

 

"Y—yes," he says. His mind is pacing, pivoting, a caged creature. He tries to squeeze into a corner of it to hide from her, but he knows he cannot; he is afraid, sweating and stiff, for Hux.

 

"Oh no," she says, loosening her fingers and caressing his scalp, an ear; she speaks directly into his mind. _Remember, killing people isn't really fun at all. Too easy. Amusement for babies. You know that_. She flicks at the ear, traces a fingernail along the outer rim, slowly works toward the center in meandering curlicues. Kylo gulps. The ear under her finger and its twin are turning very red, as are his neck and cheeks.

"Nasty little Benny," she murmurs, and thrusts her finger into the hot ear canal. Kylo is trying again to not make any sound, but she can feel the click of his teeth clenching together with her mundane senses while those less ordinary feel the steady ripples of the Force distorting around his arousal. Keeping the probing finger in place, she tugs Kylo's head by the ear to her side so that Hux, who has finished with her boot and is crouched on his naked haunches, looking on with glazed eyes, has a better view. "And what do _you_ think, Armie sweet? Would you look forward to breaking Prince Benny's crown for everyone to see?" She wriggles her finger within the ear and Kylo finally releases a low, choked groan.

 

Hux says nothing but she knows his mind is stuffed with what his eyes see: Kylo trembling-lipped, face crimson and half-hidden by hair, his big naked body hunched behind Rey, a glimpse between her legs of his half-stiff cock. "That's a yes?"

 

"Whatever you command, Supreme Leader."

 

"You must've gotten tired of his stupid childish shit a long time ago." She throws Kylo forward at Hux as she steps clear, the hem of her gown susurrating against the floor. Kylo pitches into the slighter man, who barely manages to recover balance for both of them. "He's always been such hard work for you, hasn't he?"

 

Hux nods slowly, not meeting her or Kylo's eyes.

 

"Always rattling on about dear _Grandaddy_ and _Master Snoke_ , isnt' that right? Thinks he's _special_?" Hux keeps nodding, entranced by a floor tile. "Well then." She puts on the other boot, finishes the lacing behind her back, and drapes a cloak around her shoulders, all with a little shrug, and turns toward the door. "Let's not keep our loyal troopers waiting." She senses, behind her, Kylo being deliberately slow—perhaps he is reaching for Hux's hand. This repellent display makes her lose for a moment her own calm; she snaps, "I think I'll ride you two there."

 

They grunt as she presses both of them Forcefully full-length, belly-down to the cold of the floor, then again as she drags them to their hands and knees next to each other. She perches side-saddle on Kylo's broad, scarred back and puts a hand in Hux's tangled hair, pulling his head backward until it can go no further. "Stay there. Good. You may kiss my hand, General."

 

Hux parts his swollen lips and gags in surprise when she thrusts three fingers into his mouth. She pushes them back and back to dig at Hux's gorge, gently smiling as he chokes. "I expect you to do your best work on our Princey here, General."

 

Hux's eyes are tearing up, but he fixes them on hers without blinking. She withdraws her fingers and wipes the spittle on his cheek and neck, and he manages to reply, hoarsely, "Yes, Supreme Leader. Thank you for the opportunity."

 

Kylo, head down, is silent. He is being surprisingly difficult to read. Rey sneers at the back of his tousled head. No matter. He'll soon break again. Break with finality. "Let's be off, then, children," she says, and kicks him hard with the heel of her boot, in the ribs.

 

***

Kylo is the first to stop crawling after they cross the threshold of the hangar; he does not need to lift his eyes to sense the nine hundred First Order officers above the rank of lieutenant and as many of the troops and techs and even sanitation squads as would fit into the cavernous space, all assembled at attention. Hux, though, does look up, and sucks in a sharp breath that makes him cough, then cringe at his bruises. "Giddyup," Rey chuckles, slapping both men hard in the face. Reluctantly, they continue to shuffle forward on hands and knees across the unyielding floor.

 

Rey smiles at the assembly as she bobs through their ranks, lounging and slipping slightly on Kylo and Hux's sweating backs. She luxuriates in the rough surf of disgust and fear surging from the gathered company; even better is the undercurrent of panting anticipation, threading through the terror like a gush of blood suspended in dark seawater.

 

_You feel it, Apprentice? Their hatred_. _Their bloodlust._

 

Kylo's mind again shrinks from her; she can see him, curling like a child, arms laced over knees, face hidden by tousled hair. _Don't be afraid, Apprentice. Fear weakens._

 

"I'm not," he mutters. But he is unable to control his shivering as she steers them with tugs at their hair through the crowd and toward a bank of navigational computers on a low platform. When Rey alights from the two men's backs with a bouncy skip just as they begin to mount the platform, both freeze again. "Go on, boys."

 

_No!_ Kylo is utterly failing to suppress his mental shout of anger and fear; he has seen the four super-sized holocameras arrayed around the navicomps. They jiggle in their tripod mounts as the force of Kylo's emotion hit them. But she knows he does not dare topple them. He understands what she intends. Hux does, too; his reaction is out loud, though, a long shaky breath out that must pain him. At a score of projectors through the hangar, holos of Hux and Kylo, nude, paused in crawling up the steps of the platform, appear, eight or ten times life size and floating high above the floor, for the crowds to see.

 

From the platform, she beams at the gathered masses; they are shifting uncomfortably, coughing, trying to look away. The air froths with their unease. What vermin. But when enough of them are collected in one place, they can be useful. "Good morning," she croons, as though to children who would chant "good morning" in reply.

 

Nobody says anything.

 

"I've got a lesson for you all today." She jerks sharply at Kylo and Hux's hair to bring them to their feet; automatically, their hands fly like nervous birds over their groins. The hard white lights of the hangar make their bruises stand out on their bodies like blots of ink. "See, Lord Ren is a piece of scum." She pauses and laughs. "You knew _that_ already! But, what I mean is that he is _Resistance_ scum. He's Ben Solo, only son of the main culprits of the Empire's end, Leia Organa and Han Solo."

 

The vermin squeak and squeal, mentally and aloud. Kylo's horror and fury creak the cameras and the joints of quiescent TIE-fighter wings in their racks and flicker the lights; the ship itself shudders. Hux has turned an unearthly pallor next to him, positively glowing with bloodlessness.

 

_Give yourself up to the Darkness._ She strums Kylo's mind like an electroharp. _Survive this trial, Apprentice, and you'll have proven yourself_ truly _worthy of me, and of the Force._

 

There is nothing intelligible in his mind; it is like trying to hold a conversation with a roaring blaze. There is a vicious series of snaps as some of the fighters' windshields cracked and smashed to the floor. The low burble of dismay among the assembled masses surges to a rolling boil. She raises a placating hand; Kylo utters a sharp _oof_ and doubles over as her unseen blow lands on his sternum. "He's admitted to all his lies. He's begged to be punished. I've accepted his request. You all," she waves at the masses, and also at the blinking lenses of the holocams, "here and through the galaxy, and Lord _Ben_ 's own mommy dearest, will witness his penance."

 

"Let this," she continues, "be an example to all of you of the value of truthfulness." She crinkles the corners of her eyes at Hux. "And obedience, and humility. There is nobody but me, now. Follow, and I'll reward you like I am rewarding the General, with what he desires most. Disobey, and I'll do worse than this to you. And the rest of the galaxy will watch, and your mamas, too. General?"

 

Hux is clenching and unclenching his jaw, which is starting to be shaded with red stubble. She sees that he has reached out to take Kylo's hand; the other still hovers over his privates. Every freckle stands out on his goosebumped flesh. "Supreme Leader?" He grits out at last.

 

The vermin have gone still again. They are _sorry_ for Hux, she senses. They _respect_ him. This knowledge twists her grin into a grimace. "Take this, General." Impossibly, he blanches further when he sees what she holds out to him: Kylo's lightsaber, crossguards-first.


	4. everyone who knows us knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey puts on her little show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a final little Coda to go. Thanks for reading and kudos-ing, all! Remember--DO NOT DO THIS AT HOME.

"Take it." She cannot seem to keep her voice smooth or level, especially not when she catches Hux darting a frantic glance at Kylo, still bent with hands on knees, beside him. " _Take it!_ " Several hundred of the assembled officers and troopers twitch or jump. Their panic fills her mind like the wail of distant sirens; it is soothing. "Take it, General," she says again, more placidly. He does so with a tremor, handling the saber like it is made of live Mustafar lava.

 

"You can do what you want with it." He looks uncomprehendingly at her. She waves, and Kylo is immediately spread-eagled, floating above the platform, his ass at Hux's eye level, every muscle taut as he struggles against her grip. "I suggest some flogging, first. I think that was the standard penalty on old ships of the Empire?" Hux's revulsion makes her tilt her head charmingly. "Then you can use it to fuck him. Or," she tilts it the other way, "maybe you'd rather do that yourself."

 

Hux's brain provides just enough resistance to be totally adorable; with a chuckle she pushes past. It remains, at core, as beautifully tidy as the blueprint of the _Harbinger_. She skims through it cheerfully, plucks the nice bits out for him to feel: Kylo throttling him. Kylo slashing the saber through a pristine section of fresh-polished wall, a bank of brand-new consoles, a few of their own troopers; Kylo sneering as they enter Snoke's throne room. Kylo again throttling him. She snarls when some others trail after these, like poisonous fish netted alongside the fine ones: Kylo panting against Hux's mouth, Kylo flushing and whispering almost shyly when Hux tries to take off his trousers in the utility closet, Kylo putting his arm behind Hux's head to cushion it against a wall.

 

Hux is stroking Kylo's thigh with his hand and looking rather longingly upward at the thigh's owner, who has let his head droop and limbs sag in her invisible bonds. "General." _Choking_ , _tongue lolling, eyes rolled up, vision blotted out_ , she presses on him. _The snarls of a rabid puppy. Smoking holes in a gorgeous new panel of titanium_. _Lunatic screams that echo in the corridors of Starkiller Base._

Hux brings the butt end of the saber before his eyes, turning the weapon slowly in his hand. _Leia Organa, readying herself on the_ Raddus _for the torpedo blast that never hits her. The unbearable force of big fingers against Hux's ribs last night, as Rey laughs._ Hux stiffens, cocks the saber, thuds it into Kylo's waist. The officers and troopers sigh and shuffle. Hux raises the inert weapon again, lands it on Kylo's belly. She gentles it from quite perforating Kylo's appendix, but he groans anyway, pinching his mouth tightly to keep it quiet.

 

"Our Resistance scum seems to _like_ this, doesn't he, General?" Kylo's cock swings turgidly between them. Hux's eyes are wide and wild. "I'll defer to your experience in these… situations. Show us what an Arkanis Head Boy's made of." She beckons, and an elegant black IT-O interrogator droid soars to her, depositing a black parcel in her outstretched hands. "Maybe you'd like the help of an actual head? Well," she concedes as she extends the contents of the parcel to Hux, "more like a helmet than a head."

 

***

Kylo is much less quiet a quarter-hour later. He remains floating above the navicomp platform; nothing holds him there but Rey's mind. Nothing hides his body from the thousands watching, silent, in the hangar, or the the billions on all Order-controlled worlds and suspected Resistance outposts, to whom the holocams are instantly transmitting in full three-dimensional definition and ultra-quality sound.

 

The sound is, in this moment, of Kylo's whimpers, Hux's ragged breath, and Rey's silvery laughter echoing against every surface of the cavernous hangar, and otherwise, silence. The officers are almost totally still; some have vomited quietly onto their boots. More, Rey knows, are trying to compress their arousal between tight-crossed legs.

 

Bruises flower red and violet on Kylo's shoulders, chest, sides, and thighs; some of the bonier places are raw—across one hipbone, blood seeps slowly to the surface of his pale skin. His nipples are a hard angry red from Hux's teeth. If she'd not stopped Hux, he might have chewed them off. She hasn't let any bones break, but it's been splendid to feel them on the verge of cracking. The deactivated saber twitches between Kylo's legs, bloodied from Hux having shoved it into him. His balls and cock are livid, the latter glistening with excitement, but held too tightly by her for release. Between gulps for air, he mumbles incoherently a single syllable that might have been "Force" or "fuck," a monotonous, guttural mantra.

 

Hux, gasping, puts his hands on his knees and doubles over from the exertion of the beating, dropping Darth Vader's ruined helmet, which he'd been clenching in his right hand, as he does so. As it rolls unevenly toward Rey, the helmet leaves a trail; Kylo's blood is still sticky on it. She picks it up and beams at it, then tucks it under her arm like a pet. "Don't you barf too, now, General," she chides cheerfully. "I thought you'd feel _better_ after that. Now, everybody, wasn't that an impressive display of the General's hand-to-hand skill? Head Boy hasn't lost his oomph."

 

Someone else begins to retch.

 

She allows Kylo to begin sliding down the navicomp array, drawing a track of blood in his wake on the monitors, crying out when the protruding crossguards of his saber bump against the edge of a screen or a knob or dial, twisting the rest inside him. When he at last reaches the floor and slumps against the base of the comps, she smiles into the nearest holocam. "I'm better at this than your father ever was, aren't I, Organa?"

 

She flicks a finger at Kylo's groin. He yells, harsh and short, as yet again he begins coming; another flick, and he is stoppered like a magnum of Corellian wine. She giggles merrily as she lets the tension undulate. Kylo is nearly sobbing. "General. Lord Ben's punishment isn't over, is it?"

 

Hux breathlessly lifts his eyes to her from staring at Kylo, who is straining, muscles corded, on the floor, his entire body arcing under his cock, hard and dark and shining like a gem. "Is it?" She repeats.

 

"No," he whispers.

 

"Tell Prince Ben-ben's mommy what you're going do, for me, but also for yourself."

 

"Make him beg," Hux says, voice stronger. "Make him beg to be allowed to come."

 

"Good, what else? Look at the holocams, tell it to everyone in the galaxy."

 

Hux straightens to full attention; until now, he has been crouched in a boxer's stance before Ren's suspended body, then struggling for breath with elbows on thighs. But he is seemingly no longer self-conscious of his own erection, pinched and rigid in the leather sheath he'd docilely put on himself. His hands tremble at his sides—not from her holding them still; she hasn't had to do that this entire time--but from his own eagerness. "Make him beg to eat my come."

 

"Anything else, General?"

 

"M-make him _mine_. My dog."

 

"Mm," she smiles. "Let's see how you do with the first two. See, good citizens of the galaxy," she smiles to the assembly and the cameras, "how generous I can be." She throws Kylo upright, makes him kneel, and folds him in the middle, like he is a man of wax. His mind, at least, seems molten. It is all raw red pain, with a generous dollop of black desire swirled in. She curls her lip: it is all for Hux to take him. _You cannot be indulged, Apprentice. You have been indulged all your life. The Dark is not your_ mommy. Kylo sharply shakes his head in response, but she ignores him.

 

Instead, she skips to where the IT-O droid hovers, blinking its blood-colored display, passes it the crusted helmet, and takes from it a new parcel. This she unwraps immediately and waves at Hux, girlishly beaming. "I think I'll even help you, General, as punishing Lord Ben must have been tiring for you." With quick hands, she tightens the dildo around her waist. "A bother, aren't they, these belts and buckles. But I thought you'd appreciate the, ah, old-fashioned touch, General, since you like that"—gesturing at the sheath straining over his groin—"so much."

 

"Yes, Supreme Leader," Hux breathes.

 

 _Wanting is weakness, Apprentice. See how I only_ give _. Now it is your turn_. She puts the heavy tip of the dildo against Kylo's abraded, bruise-striped thigh, as an anchor, enjoying the spasms of his body; then she yanks out the lightsaber by the crossguards with a wicked jerk and lets it hit the floor. Kylo's cock and balls are so tight that they hardly bounce. He shrieks. Before he finishes, she has already begun to press her way into him; the shriek continues, volume undiminished, as a groan. Hux, in faithful synchrony, has begun pushing himself, backward, onto Kylo, with wanton velocity. Many more TIE-fighter windshields shatter up and down the racks, this time into sparkling dust. "See, Organa," she tells the holocams as she slaps Kylo's bleeding hip with the base of her palm and drives herself home, twisting a nipple hard, feeling the pounding waves of hurt from him, like the radiance of a dying sun, surge pleasingly. "This is what he has always wanted."

 

Hux is struggling to stay on his feet. Each of her thrusts staggers him; he is not being held upright by her, as Kylo is. Kylo's sweat-soaked hair is slapping its owner in the face, and dripping onto Hux's neck. As she draws back her full length and plunges it back in with sheer Force, Kylo's feet dance involuntarily against the floor. She hears moans from the crowd. Someone—several someones--the weak-minded ones-- have begun to paw at themselves through their uniform trousers. In time with her push and pull, she says, "Well, Lord Ben. Are you ready to beg?"

 

His only response is a long slur of _ah_ s and _uh_ s, and a pained hiss as she strikes the hip again. "Talk clearly so everyone can hear." Hux has stilled on the other side of Kylo's big body; he seems to be stooping. _A weakling_. Before she can ask him if he is ready to make Kylo beg, there is a red sizzle. Hux has seized Kylo's saber, as it rolled, and activated it. The blade stabs backward through the air between their three pairs of legs.

 

There are gasps and not a few screams in their audience.

 

"Oh _General_ ," she says pityingly, not bothering to push the weapon away. "You should be careful with that thing. Shoddy quality."

 

"Agh," Hux cries, as he pulls free of Kylo violently and stumbles to face them. Now the crackling blade is nearly resting on Kylo's chest, and Hux is pressing close to it on the other side. She can feel them staring like idiots from a romance holo at each other, and Kylo thinking _do it, yes, Hux, please, now_.

 

She growls and tries to push Hux backward, but she is distracted and there is Kylo in the way, grunting as he counters her, and Hux's hand is on Kylo before she can stop him.

 

Kylo leans his forehead against Hux's shoulder and bites blindly at whatever bit of skin he can to stifle his screams as he thrashes out his orgasm, so ferociously that he almost twists free of her, though she is planted deeply inside him. Relief and—worse yet— _gratitude_ blast through him as his come splashes, seemingly inexhaustibly, over Hux's body and his own; the beautiful scarlet-and-obsidian she had painted his mind is being rapidly washed out.

 

In rage and alarm, she begins to reach out, to choke and slam their bodies until they repent. But there is too much at once, she cannot quite hold it all. Now the saber, never turned off and still clutched in Hux's other hand, comes between the men, touches flesh, and there is a smell of burning. The hangar finally boils over with screams.


	5. coda: life is great without a care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of sugar for your medicine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to any and all who read this far!

He is not dead. _Fuck_.

 

The familiar pattern of the ceiling tells him he is in the intensive-care portion of the officers' medbay. Also familiar are the faint metallic tang and residual squeaky friction, on his skin, of bacta.

 

The pain is excruciating, lying like a leaden, pulsing blanket across his belly, thighs, chest, up one shoulder. One eye is bandaged, as is his right hand. But everything is at least _there_ , and nothing seems worse than the previous wound, the one that Rey gave him in the snowing forest and split his face and shoulder open. Still, when he tries to curl upright, his body flatly denies him and sends a spear of agony through his entire torso for good measure.

 

He has not allowed himself to reach far through the Force since— _her_. But he cannot sit up to see, and he has to know, so he closes the good eye and lets himself go. _She_ is still close, and palpable, a heavy rip in the undulating fabric of the universe. A light-devouring hole. Snoke was never _this_.

 

He gasps with relief: closer yet is Hux, a particular reddish fuzzing of the waves that he thinks resembles Hux's hair, when he has just woken up. Hux is also not dead. This is good and terrible at once. With breath stuttering from the pain, he manages to twitch a hand in the direction of the fuzz, and collides with a reassuringly solid thigh. They must've both just been removed from the tanks.

 

But there is another ripple, a little eddy in the endless field. Also familiar, but long ignored. A small voice that, as he lets himself hear it, grows firmer. It sounds like his mother, like some creaking ancient creature, like a young man laughing, all at once. _Ben_ , it is murmuring to him. _Ben._

 

 _Ben is dead_. This is how dialogue with this voice has gone since he left the Temple in flames. He usually screams his line—he shouldn't be hearing this voice at all--but he hasn't the will or strength today. He simply states, _I am Kylo Ren_.

 

It—they--usually leave him be after that. Not today. _What is past is not forgotten._ Now it is definitely Skywalker's voice. _No one who touches the Force dies forever._

_Do you_ see _this? What she's done?_ He starts to roll his eyes, then grunts and puts his good hand over the bandaged one.

_There is always Balance in the Force_ , Skywalker sounds close enough to be whispering in his ear. He almost feels the warmth of a breath there. _Ben_.

 

fin

**Author's Note:**

> I will be posting in installments. Kindly reward my withered soul with a kudos if you please.


End file.
